


waiting for you

by wintercreek



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-14
Updated: 2011-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-16 23:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur starts to turn up everywhere, lurking outside the stables, snacking in the kitchens, sitting casually at Gaius's table like he belongs there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	waiting for you

Arthur starts to turn up everywhere, lurking outside the stables, snacking in the kitchens, sitting casually at Gaius's table like he belongs there. Merlin does not literally trip over him, but it's a near thing sometimes. And Arthur's always smiling, which doesn't help.

It would be an understatement to say that Merlin's not best pleased by this. How is he supposed to do magic when Arthur is underfoot? He can't order the crown prince out of the way, though, so he puts up with it.

One day when Arthur's supposed to be with the knights all afternoon, Merlin risks some magic. The horses haven't forgotten what it is to be groomed by floating brushes, thank all the gods. He absently-mindedly brushes them with his magic, humming softly and slowly checking over their tack for worn spots. It all goes well until Arthur clears his throat at the edge of the stall.

"I, uh," Merlin begins intelligently.

"Oh, shut it," Arthur says. His tone is carefully level, neither angry nor comforting, and his face is just as neutral.

Merlin raises his eyebrows and looks expectantly at Arthur, keeping his mouth shut. He's still holding a horse bridle, which seems inappropriate to the moment, somehow; he hangs it up on its peg. This is not how he'd thought they'd have this conversation, surrounded by the warm odors of horses and hay, but here it is.

After a time, Arthur huffs impatiently. "Yes?"

"I though you didn't want me to speak," Merlin says. He's not sure why he's not scared out of his wits right now; he just knows Arthur won't turn him in.

"Cheeky." Arthur smiles a tiny smile, and something eases between them. "When were you going to tell me about this?" Arthur asks.

Swallowing, Merlin admits, "Don't know. It never seemed to be–"

"The right time?" Arthur cuts in.

"Safe," Merlin finishes. Before Arthur can begin to protest, he says, "But it is now, isn't it."

Arthur lifts a shoulder and lets it fall, an eloquent shrug that says what he cannot, quite, give voice to. He breaks into a teasing grin and says, "Not if you're going to keep pretending to be as inefficient as you have been. Surely you could groom my horse and polish my armor at the same time, with these skills?"

"Oh, sure," Merlin answers. "What do you plan to do with all my new free time?"

"I think I can think of something." Arthur steps forward and takes Merlin's face in his hands. His kiss is gentle and inexorable. Merlin luxuriates in it, then walks them slightly backwards to stand in a sunbeam so the way he feels inside and the world outside match. His face warms under the light and Arthur's touch.

When they break apart, the only thing Merlin can think is to ask Arthur, "What were _you_ waiting for?"

The sun is brilliant on Arthur's hair, bright as their future. His face is readable now, open and warm, as he says, "You."


End file.
